


disappear when i need you most

by demonicneonfishy



Series: february angst-fest (febuwhump 2021) [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Hallucinations, Hurt No Comfort, I really don't know what to tag this as, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Nothing happens onscreen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29175036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonicneonfishy/pseuds/demonicneonfishy
Summary: “My name is Nicoló di Genova,” he says to himself in Italian. “I was born in 1069. I died in 1099. I am nine hundred and fifty two years old. My family is Yusuf al-Kaysani, Andromache the Scythian, Quynh, Sebastien le Livre…”There’s another one, he knows. He can see her face, hear her laughter - what’s her name, what’s her name, what’s-“Nile!” he practically shouts. “Nile Freeman.” Nile, his sharp, intelligent, kind little sister. How could he have forgotten her name?Whatever they’re doing to him is working. And he doesn’t know how much more he can take.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: february angst-fest (febuwhump 2021) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141784
Comments: 6
Kudos: 94





	disappear when i need you most

**Author's Note:**

> day 2 of febuwhump 2021  
> prompt: "I can't do this anymore"  
> (title from holy ghost, neon trees)   
> -  
> this is a prequel to day 1, aka: what happened to nicky, but can be read as a standalone.

Nicky doesn’t know how long he’s been here.

They’re trying to make him forget, he knows that. They want to use him as a weapon. It wouldn’t be the first time.

This time, though, they might succeed. He can feel himself slipping away, bit by bit, and doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on.

“My name is Nicoló di Genova,” he says to himself in Italian. “I was born in 1069. I died in 1099. I am nine hundred and fifty two years old. My family is Yusuf al-Kaysani, Andromache the Scythian, Quynh, Sebastien le Livre…”

There’s another one, he knows. He can see her face, hear her laughter - _what’s her name, what’s her name, what’s-_

“Nile!” he practically shouts. “Nile Freeman.” Nile, his sharp, intelligent, kind little sister. How could he have forgotten her name?

Whatever they’re doing to him is _working_. And he doesn’t know how much more he can take.

He takes a deep breath, and begins again, this time in Arabic. 

* * *

They half-drag him back into his cell and slam the door. He lies there for a moment, eyes closed. He’s so _tired_. They hurt him, over and over and over again, and he doesn’t know what they want from him. They don’t ask him where the others are. They don’t speak at all. They wear masks so he can’t see their faces. He can’t even be sure they’re human anymore.

“Hey there, stranger,” Joe says.

Nicky opens his eyes.

Joe’s perched on the edge of his bed - or, what passes for one in this place - smiling down at him as if it’s just a normal day.

Nicky manages to pull himself up so he’s sitting with his back pressed to the wall. “You’re not real.”

“Maybe.” Joe shrugs. “Would that matter? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I don’t want you to be.” As much as he misses Joe, he wants him to be safe, and that means being anywhere but here.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not real.” 

Nicky manages to smile at that.

He knows he’s hallucinating, that this is just a side effect of what they’re doing to him, but it’s nice being able to see Joe, to speak to him, even if he’s not really here.

“I’m tired,” he says. 

“I know, my love,” Joe says softly. “Hold on.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

Joe lowers himself to the floor. “Yes, you can.”

“I miss you,” he whispers.

“I know,” Joe repeats. He reaches out to touch Nicky’s shoulder, and Nicky can almost imagine being able to actually feel it.

He blinks, and Joe is gone.

* * *

_My name is Nicoló di Genova. I died in 1099. I am nine hundred and fifty two years old. My family is Yusuf al-Kaysani, Andromache the Scythian, Quynh, Sebastien le Livre… Nile._

_My name is Nicoló di Genova. I died in 1099. I am nine hundred and - and - I am almost a millennium old. My family is Yusuf al-Kaysani, Andromache the Scythian… Quynh. Booker._

_My name is Nicoló di Genova. I died in… I died. But I didn’t. I am almost a millennium old. My family is Yusuf al-Kaysani… Andy. Booker…_

_My name is… my name. My name is Nicoló di Genova. I am… I don’t know. My family… Yusuf…_

* * *

They’re breaking him.

Slowly, but surely, they’re breaking him, and he doesn’t know if he can take it. He just wants it to stop. He wants to go _home_.

_Where is home?_

“Nicky,” Joe says gently.

That’s his name. _Nicky, Nicky, Nicky_. He repeats it, over and over and over until he realises he’s speaking out loud.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispers. 

Joe looks pained. “I know it’s hard, habibi, but-”

“You _don’t_ know,” Nicky snaps. “You don’t know because you’re not _here_ because you’re not real because I’m going insane, aren’t I? And you’re supposed to _be here_ , Joe, you were supposed to come for me-”

His voice breaks, and Joe reaches out like he means to touch him but Nicky flinches away. 

“Go away,” he says. 

“Nicky-”

“Go _away_!” He screams it this time, tears streaming down his face. He wants Joe here. But he doesn’t. He misses him. But he doesn’t want to see him. He hates him. He loves him so much it hurts.

“I can’t help you, Nicky,” Joe says quietly. “I’m not real, remember?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” he repeats. He’s falling apart, he’s breaking, they’re breaking him and he can’t hold himself together much longer.

Joe reaches out again, and this time Nicky reaches for him, tries to touch him and his hand goes right through because _this Joe is not real._

He’s crying freely now, sobs wrenching through his whole body, pressing his face into his knees and wrapping his arms tightly around himself as if he can hold himself together that way. Somehow.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this hopeless.

When he looks up, Joe is gone.

He doesn’t come back.

* * *

_My name is Nicoló… di… di Genova. I am… I don’t know anymore. My… my family… Yusuf..._

_Yusuf, my love, I can’t- I-_

_My name. My name is… Nicoló._

_My name is…_

_My name…_

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry  
> -  
> i'm demonicneonfishy on tumblr too if you wanna come say hi!


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